Untamed Passion

PLEASURE UNBOUND

It was a little sad to sit down in the driver’s seat of her husband’s car for the ride home. Ed was a good guy and a loving husband, but he was

such a stick in the mud when it came to sex. After four long years of once or twice a week at best, the good old missionary position every time, Shaina was faced with an agonizing decision. He was a good man, and Shaina loved him, but her body screamed out with the need to be fucked…a very serious and real need to be fucked. Hard. And in every way, shape, and form possible.

She had bought toys, she had tried porn videos, she had even bought a Sybian (which she truly enjoyed and wished Ed would try with her…

anything at all, if he’d just try.) Eventually, she broke down and told her husband what she needed, but the look of shock on his face shut the conversation down very quickly. There had been a few tense days afterward, and Ed just assumed that her outburst was an aberration and wouldn’t come up again.

In desperation, she turned to her very closest friend Denise for comfort,

consolation, and advice. Denise’s first response was not helpful and didn’t bode well for Ed. “Once or twice a week? And then only in the missionary position? Jesus Shaina, is he gay?”

After a whole afternoon of discussion, during which the two of them had downed most of a pitcher of frozen margaritas, Denise had proposed three solutions. “You can write him off and divorce him sweetie, but your folks and his are going to take that very badly.” Denise gazed up at the ceiling for a moment. “You could just give up sex and live with what he gives you.” Both of them snorted at that idea. “Or you could do what half the other women in this little hick town do when they get bored with the same old cock and the same old routine after a few years.”

“What the hell are you talking about Denise?” Shaina asked.

“You could fuck around when you need it bad. It’s not like he’s even going to find out about it,” Denise said reasonably. “I mean, look at him.”

They turned to look in the living room, fifteen feet away, where Ed sat absorbed in a football game. “We’re sitting here talking about fucking

strange men, just a few feet from where he’s sitting, and he’s not heard a word we said.”

“I don’t think he wants to,” Shaina said sadly.

“Hey Ed, Shaina wants to go down to the local biker bar and get some grungy biker to let her give him a blowjob,” Denise brayed.

“Jesus Denise!” Shaina cringed. “Huh?” Ed said, “Do what?”

“Nothing baby, go back to your game,” Shaina said. Ed looked puzzled for a moment and then turned around and was immediately absorbed in the game again.

Shaina looked at her friend. “Denise, he’s not an idiot, he graduated with honors at the top of his class in college…he’s…he’s just focused elsewhere.”

“Honey, if you need to get laid, he’s going to have to solve your problem for you or pay the consequences. It’s hard, but I gave you three options and I honestly don’t see any others.”

Neither did Shaina. In the end, she didn’t want to face the furor of their families or the hurt in Ed’s eyes. Doing without was not an option.

There was another game on that night, and Shaina showered and changed, putting on a pair of cutoff jeans and a tee shirt along with a pair of walking shoes. Grabbing her small purse from the kitchen counter, she walked over to Ed and asked for the key to the car. Of course, she had her own, but she wanted to give him a chance to stop her. He never even asked where she was going, but he did tell her to have a good time. She was more than a little annoyed.

Several miles from their house she found a roadhouse on the side of the highway with thirty or forty bikes backed into the front parking lot. Still frustrated, she turned off and parked the car. Looking over the lot, she realized that most of these bikes were very new, very shiny, and veryContent is property of NôvelDrama.Org.

expensive. With a sigh of relief, she realized that this was no biker dive, this was a place where well-to-do professional men came to have their wannabe fantasies about being a hardass biker. The worst she would have to worry about here would be some drunk lardass Romeo who thought he was irresistible. It was a problem she could handle.

In the dim light of the bar, she could see that she had guessed correctly, and she let her guard down. She sat down at a table lit by a candle in a wine jug and started to gaze around the room. Most of the guys were in their thirties or early forties and didn’t look too bad at all, though there were a few of the lardasses. The first man who sat down next to her and offered to buy her a drink was okay, but he was only a little less boring than Ed…he mostly talked about his wife and his bike, but he was friendly enough. He didn’t stay long.

The second man sat down while she was finishing her Manhattan, and lit a Marlboro, blowing the smoke out of both nostrils, but away from her.

“Manhattan?” he asked in a friendly tone. She nodded yes. He was ruggedly good-looking, and though she judged him to be in his early forties, his jeans and the black tee shirt spread tightly across his muscled chest showed him to be in very good shape. “Rye or Bourbon?”

She grinned at him openly now, the man knew his Manhattan’s. “Rye,” she said softly. He glanced at a waitress, who came right over to him.

“Two Manhattans please,” he said politely, “with rye, not bourbon.”